Page 19 of Chase

Within an hour of handing my notice into Guilty Pleasures, my phone had lit up with an anonymous message.

I’ll miss you. You were my favorite part of the week.

My fingers lift to the charms on my new lanyard, patiently hanging around my neck for my ID card. “I love this, by the way. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Connor replies, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

The doors open, and Russell steps into the small space with no more than a grunt of acknowledgment. Mrs. D, their shared housekeeper, waves manically behind him to us all. She smiles wildly, and I can’t help but wave back. Connor blows her a kiss, then the doors close and the elevator starts its descent.

“Garage?” Russell says.

“I assume you’re asking if we are going to the garage,” his brother retorts, and they scowl at one another.

“Well, I need my fucking car to get to the office for our nine o’clock.” He emphasizes the word “our;” clearly, he knows Connor won’t be in the office then.

“That meeting is delayed until ten. I’m taking Sam to her first day at the hospital.”

Russell’s focus comes to me. Dark, dangerous eyes move from the top of my head down my body then back up to my lips. My eyes move between the brothers, similar but different, and both oh-so sexy. Naughtily, my mind paints a picture of what it would be like to have both of them.

“Not the nurse’s uniform I had in mind,” Russell says. “The ones I like have suspender belts and crotchless underwear. The kind of nurses that get you into trouble.” The pet name he uses for me rolls off his tongue, and my insides tighten.

“Piss off, Russ,” Connor mutters. “You don’t always have to be the arsehole. Wishing Sam luck on her first day would be the normal human reaction.” I reach for his hand and link our fingers together, uneasy with the current situation. Connor seems oblivious to the fact Russell is eyeing me like a cat does a mouse.

“Good luck, Trouble. I hope you have a wonderful first day in your new employment.” My mind almost explodes as he calls me Trouble in front of his brother within the tiny enclosed space. Connor stiffens beside me but doesn’t comment. I’ve noticed he can hold his tongue and assess a situation before reacting.

Thankfully, the buzzer pings when we reach our destination, and the doors open. Russell turns around and stalks out into the parking garage. Connor and I look on as he climbs into his car and drives away.

Chapter nine

Varley Medical, London

Samantha

My new place of work is a modern, purpose-built facility in the center of the city. The outside of the square building is covered in large, smooth white panels and reflective silver windows. At the entrance, signified by a canopy and two large marble pillars, sit two highly polished ambulances painted in white and red. The words “PRIVATE AMBULANCE” are boldly printed down the side. Perfectly designed planters filled with green foliage are strategically placed around the edge of the pavement, almost creating a barrier between passersby and the hospital.

We pull into the underground car park, and I duck instinctively as we pass under the height restriction barrier. Connor’s vehicle is nothing like Russell’s low, sporty one. He drives a colossal off-road Jeep, one you have to climb up two steps to get in. The front and rear are protected by thick metal bars, which sit in stark contrast to the bright red paint.

Today was my first time seeing his car. Living in the city, anytime we have had plans, we’ve called a taxi or simply walked where we needed to go. What I’m sitting in now is the complete opposite of what I expected Connor Chase’s car to look like. For a quiet, unassuming man in so many ways, what he drives makes a statement on the road.

The red and white striped barrier lifts, and we drive into the best-lit parking garage I’ve ever seen. Each space has a small light above it indicating if it’s available or not.

“There’s a space there,” I say, pointing to a place between two small cars.

“No, we want two spaces together.” His eyes keep scanning as he drives slowly up and down each line of parked cars.

“You’re one of those arseholes, aren’t you?” He stops the car and turns to face me. I stare straight back at him, trying to keep my face blank which is difficult considering all I want to do when I look at him is smile.

“What arseholes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His shirt sits open at the collar, the soft material skims over muscle that I am getting to know so well. He holds my focus with strong, direct eye contact.

“The ones that park over two spaces like they’re driving a fucking army tank.” He laughs, his face lighting up in amusement. I smile goofily back at him.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

After a few minutes, we find what he is looking for—two parking spaces side by side. Connor reverses into the gap, ensuring he covers the center of the spot, minimizing the risk of his car being hit accidentally by another driver. When he’s happy with our position, he turns off the engine and removes the key.

“You ready?” he asks, cocking his head to one side and smiling. I sit in the passenger seat, my nerves rising by the second. My hands, which are twisted in my lap, sweat lightly. This is potentially the most nerve-wracking day of my whole life.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I tell him, then push open my door before stepping out. Connor gets out as well, then walks around to meet me. I shrug the small backpack I have over my shoulder, then touch the charms on my lanyard, ensuring they are still there. It’s crazy how important small pieces of metal can become so quickly. His eyes follow the movement of my hand, and he wraps his fingers around mine.

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